Caught in the Cross Fire
by lovelure
Summary: A Luke and Reid fanfic – from Mona Cross's POV. Mona has a soft spot for Reid, and Bob notices. Fluffy and campy, but also something more. A cross between canon/AU/missing scene fanfic. Thanks to Randy and BlueMirror144 at LRO for the inspiration!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **__Just a short (6-chapter) series following the Mona Cross story arc and written around the scenes in canon...then I'll be back to Simple Gifts - for those of you who are STILL waiting, thanks for your patience. __Not quite a missing-episode fanfic, but not quite AU, either. Mona could be considered OOC, but the Oakdale characters are not - well, at least they weren't intended to be!  
_

_Feedback of all sorts welcome and appreciated.  
_

**CAUGHT IN THE CROSS-FIRE Chapter 1  
**

_Question: Tell me what you think about me __I buy my own diamonds and I buy my own rings..._

Mona Cross was in a good mood. During the three-hour drive from Chicago to Oakdale, with Destiny Child's _Independent Women _blaring on the Bose speakers in her new BMW, the sunroof wide open, she sang cheerfully at the top of her lungs. After ten years of toiling behind the scenes at Invicta, only to see her less-deserving _male_ colleagues get all the credit for her ideas, she was finally going to get her chance.

_...Only ring your cell-y when I'm feelin lonely; __when it's all over please get up and leave..._

She had scoured the country for independent hospitals, ripe for the picking. Much to her surprise, the best candidate was practically right in her own backyard in nearby Oakdale. Oakdale Memorial had been run for decades by local physicians, and for the last umpteen years by one Robert William Hughes – or Bob, as he was more commonly known. Bob appeared to be a competent manager, but an uncreative one – things at Memorial did not appear to have changed for decades – until 2010.

..._Question: Tell me how you feel about this: Try to control me boy you get dismissed_...

Mona had asked her assistant – not only a hottie, but a technowhiz in his spare time – to put together a search bot to flag news about major developments in the hospital industry...and Memorial's new Snyder Pavilion project had been caught in the snare. Somehow Bob Hughes – dull as dishwater Bob Hughes – had managed not only to raise the funding to build a state-of-the-art surgical facility, but he had somehow convinced prominent neurosurgeon Reid Oliver to leave University Hospital in Dallas to run the new wing.

_...Pay my own fun, oh and I pay my own bills, always 50/50 in relationships..._

Mona had been aware of Dr Oliver's career for several years now – he was known across medical circles for his medical prowess and she had read with interest about his various groundbreaking procedures.

This combination of Dr Oliver's talent, and sleepy (_undervalued_) Memorial Hospital was too tempting to resist. As soon as Mona read about the new wing, she had started doing her homework. After two weeks of research and six presentations to her boss, her boss's boss and her boss's boss's boss, she'd managed to convince Invicta management to fork up the cash to purchase Memorial. It would be a perfect addition to their portfolio. And scooped up at a good price, it would provide a steady source of income for decades to come.

As soon as she had received approval from management, she had started to pursue Bob Hughes. At first, he was difficult to convince. Indeed, the first time she had called, he had hung up on her, declaring that "Memorial Hospital is not for sale. Not now, not ever." The next two dozen times she called, his assistant had run interference claiming he was away at a series of events ranging from surgery to an anniversary party to his grandson's wedding. Only after she threatened to show up unannounced, did he take a second call.

By then, first quarter financial results were in, and Mona knew they must have been concerning – the industry as a whole was suffering between the recession and fears of Obama's healthcare reform. Mona took advantage of the situation and presented her "best case" financials, showing how Invicta funding could help ensure no immediate staffing cuts, and allow Memorial to sustain its current level of service without detracting from the Snyder Pavilion project.

This time Bob Hughes listened. The next thing he knew, Mona had invited herself to Oakdale for a visit and he had agreed.

Bob had asked her to meet him and "some colleagues" for a drink at Oakdale's LakeView hotel. One of the few "high-rises" (if you can call 12 stories a high-rise) in downtown Oakdale, it wasn't difficult to find. After asking for directions at the front desk, she had just entered the bar when Bob Hughes stood up to greet her. He must have recognized her from her publicity still.

"Miss Cross?" asked Bob, extending a hand. Standing up at the same time was a sandy-blonde with gorgeous want-to-run-your-fingers-through-them curls, exquisite skin and devastatingly blue eyes.

"Please call me Mona," Mona replied. As she shook Bob's hand, out of the corner of her eye she eyed the sandy blonde, gauging his height. She concluded that if she tilted her head, it would fit perfectly on his shoulder, under the curve of his freshly shaven chin...

"Ah well, it's a pleasure to meet you," Bob was saying. "I'm Bob Hughes, and this is Reid Oliver." Bob gestured to the tall blonde. _THE_ _Dr_ _Reid Oliver?_ Reading all his journal articles, Mona had pictured some geeky guy with buck teeth and a combover. _But a genius who's also gorgeous? This project just kept getting better and better._

She beamed broadly, as Dr Oliver shook her hand. She couldn't help but quickly look down, noticing that his black jeans looked as if they'd been painted around his hips. She wondered if the view was as good from behind...

"I am _thrilled_ to meet you," said Reid, glancing oddly towards Bob, as he extended his own hand in greeting. At the word "thrilled" Mona's heart skipped a beat. She noticed he was still holding her hand – perhaps for just a beat longer than appropriate. Mona smiled at him and stole a quick glance at his left hand. _No ring. _Mona smiled to herself.

"Let's sit down," Bob suggested, pointing to the seat next to him. _Damn him. Instead of sitting next to Dr McSexy I'm stuck next to Matlock._

"Ah yes," Mona said politely, placing her briefcase on the bench and then taking her seat next to Bob.

"Dr Oliver came to us from Dallas," Bob explained. "We snagged him about last fall."

"I wouldn't say snagged so much as lured and trapped," Reid corrected, taking his seat across from her. _Lured and trapped? I'd like to be trapped with Dr Reid Oliver_... "...but that's neither here nor there."

Suddenly both Reid and Bob turned their attention to the bar entrance. A second gorgeous blonde entered the room. _What did they put in the water here in Oakdale?_

Bob stood up to greet the young man. "Luke," he called him.

"Luke Snyder, Mona Cross," Bob said, making the formal introduction. As Luke leaned across the table to shake her hand she couldn't help but notice the chest hair peeking from the open neckline of his peach-colored shirt. _Smexy indeed, but jeez – who the hell chose that godawful color for him?_ _Now put that boy in a black button-up with just a few buttons undone? Then we can talk._

While Reid's expression was unreadable, his gaze never left Luke until he had taken his seat alongside the hot doc. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Luke," Mona said.

"Luke was a major donor to the new wing which Dr Oliver will be supervising," Bob explained.

"Oh, very generous," said Mona. _Luke Snyder?_ _I thought that the bastard Stenbeck heir was the major donor._

"Well, the work is what's important," Luke said, as Reid stared oddly at what appeared to be the tip of Luke's nose – almost like he was staring while trying to seem like he wasn't staring. "We're just glad to be in a position to help."

As Luke droned on enthusiastically about the life and times of Memorial Hospital, Mona found herself drawn time and again to Dr Oliver's hands. _A surgeon's hands. Long slender fingers. Perfect for holding a scalpel and making intricate cuts...patterns across the flesh..._

Mona had been trying to maintain eye contact with Luke while he spoke, only occasionally peeking at Reid out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't remember when she had last said anything, so when Luke paused for breath, she nodded and said what she hoped sounded like an interested, "Um hmm."

Apparently it sounded sufficiently interested, as it encouraged Luke to continue with yet another monologue. Mona snuck a glance at Reid's lips, which seemed to open occasionally as if he were thinking of speaking. She wondered what it would be like to devour those lips...

_Focus! _Mona told herself. She was the project manager for Invicta's acquisition of Memorial. If she could get that old coot Bob Hughes to sell at a reasonable price, she was in line for a major promotion and a hefty raise. She would have her pick of departments to run, and her pick would be that brand spanking, shiny new surgical wing. So the head of the surgical wing, Dr Oliver, would then of course, report to her. _She would be his boss – above him on the organization chart. Above him. On top of him..._

Mona shook her head to try to encourage the blood in her body to flow back north.

"I'm sorry Miss Cross," Luke said with surprise. "You disapprove?"

"What?" she asked, trying to remember the last topic of discussion.

"Um, it's not that I disapprove..." she said, trying to buy herself some time. "It's just that I need to have a better grasp of the details before I can make a realistic assessment. Mona hoped that her response was sufficiently generic to actually apply to whatever Luke had just been blathering on about.

"Keeping things in the community, Miss Cross." Luke reiterated. "Memorial always tries to keep things in the community as much as possible. Yes, Memorial will go out of its way to hire talent," Luke said, tilting his head towards Reid, "But Memorial is one of the cornerstones of Oakdale. The hospital is one of Oakdale's biggest employers, and as much as possible we use local suppliers for everything from security services to uniforms."

_How quaint_. Mona decided this was a good opportunity to segue into the question that had been nagging her since Luke Snyder had arrived this morning. "Why did you choose to build the wing at Memorial?" Mona asked. "Couldn't you serve more patients at a larger, more metropolitan hospital?"

"Well," said Luke. "Other hospitals aren't run by somebody I respect as much as Dr Hughes..." _Oh gag,_ thought Mona. _If this boy scout keeps this up, I'm going to hurl._

"...and staffed with some of the best doctors in the country" Luke finally paused for a breath, turning towards Reid, adding. "Dr Oliver?"

As if on cue, Reid jumped in, "Yes, Memorial is the little hospital that could." Reid grinned awkwardly. _Oh my god, did he just do a little "go get 'em" fist pump? Oh, who cares, that shy almost-smile is incredible!_ Mona smiled back encouragingly.

"Dr Oliver came to us from a large hospital in Dallas. He's had to make some adjustments." Bob interjected. To be polite, Mona tore her eyes away from Reid to make eye contact with Bob as he spoke. "May I offer you a drink?"

"That's a great idea," agreed Reid. "Let's get that waiter over here." Reid looked expectantly over towards the bar and then back. "Let me tell you something Mona..." he began. Mona couldn't help but notice the sidelong glance that Luke gave him — almost as if he were worried about what Reid was about to say.

"When I first moved to this town," Reid continued, "It was like taking a _thousand_ steps backwards —" Given Memorial's case file and what she'd seen so far of Oakdale, Mona could easily envision that.

Luke cut him off, "Dr Oliver has had a _lot_ of success here at Memorial."

"There was a client of his..." Luke continued, as Reid nodded his agreement. "...who was told by numerous specialists that he wouldn't be able to see ever again. Now he has his eyesight back, thanks to Dr Oliver." Reid bit his lip modestly and looked down.

Mona recognized the description from her case files. She recalled something about a fireworks accident and ensuing blindness. Dr Oliver had apparently come up with some innovative drug therapy protocols and managed to restore the patient's sight in a single operation, despite encountering an unexpected bleeder during surgery. The man was a miracle worker. _Miracle worker._ Mona had a brief vision of an old Helen Keller movie where Anne Sullivan had her arms around Helen, teaching her to sign "water" with their hands clasped underneath a running faucet. Mona pictured Reid with his arms around her and their hands being bathed in running water. _Bathed..._ Mona blinked hard to get the image out of her head.

"I've heard about that case," Mona said."I'd like to meet with that patient if I could. I find it helps to talk to —"

"The little people?" Reid interrupted. As Mona processed Reid's comment, Luke shot him a death glare.

Reid seemed to reconsider: "That's not what I meant to say."

Trying to change the subject, Bob turned to Luke and asked, "Were you able to reach Noah?"

"That's the young man?" Mona asked. While she had read all about his case, the medical journals were notorious sticklers for patients' privacy, so she had never previously had a name to associate with the story.

"Um, yes," Luke replied, almost nervously. Reid turned to hear the response with interest. "Yes, but unfortunately, he couldn't be here today." Luke turned and gave Reid another odd death glare.

Mona was watching for Reid's reaction when he looked up towards the bar entrance again. Mona turned her head to follow and was surprised to see yet another gorgeous young man enter – this time a muscular brunette with great arms but with deplorable taste in clothes (Mona detested plaid).

Luke and Reid exchanged quick glances and then Luke quickly got up to bring over a third chair for Noah. Noah Mayer apparently was his full name, and he explained how he had been blinded in a fireworks accident because he was distracted at the time. Luke and Reid gave each other another odd glance.

Noah continued his story. He had given up all hope of seeing again until his research identified Dr Oliver as the only neurosurgeon in the country who had pioneered techniques that might be effective with Noah's particular flavor of blindness. Although even Dr Oliver had given him only a 20% chance of success, Noah found that he could see shapes and colors almost immediately after surgery. He was pleasantly surprised when his full vision unexpectedly returned several days later. "It gave me a chance to see just what I had been missing for the last several months," Noah said, pointedly looking first at Luke and then at Dr Oliver. Their eyes made contact for an extended beat and it struck Mona as an odd expression of gratitude.

As Noah concluded his story, Bob paid the bill and suggested they all adjourn. All five of them made their way to the LakeView lobby together as Mona continued to grill Noah on his experience.

"So, did you enjoy working with Dr Oliver," she asked.

Noah paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts before responding. "No," he said.

Mona did a double-take. "And why is that?" she asked.

"There was something I wanted," Noah began. "Something I thought was more important than everything else." Noah glanced briefly over Mona's shoulder in Luke's direction.

"Being able to see?" asked Mona obviously.

"Yeah," Noah nodded. "And _Reid _could give that back to me." Noah put a strange emphasis on "Reid" and glanced in his direction.

"Or he could take it away," Noah continued. "...and I just didn't like being so...out of control." _Huh? _Mona bit back the urge to ask Mr Mayer what the hell he was babbling about._  
_

"But Reid gave you what you wanted," Bob redirected.

"He gave me my eyes," Noah said cryptically. _Yeah, well duh._

"With Reid Oliver at Memorial," Noah concluded, "I am sure the hospital will have no problems attracting other talented surgeons. But I'm not sure any of them will be able to match his success rate, or his reputation."

"Well, it's been a pleasure and a privilege meeting you, Mr Mayer," Mona said, smiling and shaking Noah's hand. Mona thought Noah looked as if he was so touched by Dr Oliver's gift of sight, that he was about to cry.

"Thank you so much for coming," Mona said as sincerely as she could manage. Noah Mayer's story was just the kind of tearjerking sob story that would convince the few bleeding hearts at Invicta to jump on board with the acquisition.

Noah nodded grimly in reply and turned to leave. As he walked past, Reid extended a hand to him. Mona gasped as Noah suddenly hauled back and popped Reid with a stiff right hook to the jaw, sending him tumbling onto one of the lobby couches, then quickly disappeared out the front door.

Mona's heart rate barely returned to normal as Reid pulled a few faces, trying to determine if his nose was broken.

"You all right?" Bob asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm used to it," Reid replied. "Getting hit is just part of being me." _Huh? Who would want to hit that beautiful face?_

Luke had glanced out the exit after Noah's rapidly retreating figure and returned to Reid's side asking, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Reid shook his head dismissively. "You guys are both scaring the pants of our potential investor." _Pants off. I'd like to get his pants off. No, I'd settle for kissing his boo-boo. Mona, get a grip._

"This is astonishing," Mona said, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry about this," Bob said, trying to apologize for the chaos.

"Mr Mayer seemed like such a nice young man," Mona observed.

"Yes he is," Bob confirmed. "There seem to be a lot of suppressed emotions."

Mona tried to angle her way towards Reid, but Bob stepped in between and guided her towards the bar. "Why don't we have a drink."

_Damn you, Matlock. It's not going to be easy to get out of this one. _Mona smiled politely at Bob and let him lead her back into the bar, leaving Reid with Luke, looking like he could use a good hug.


	2. Chapter 2

**CAUGHT IN THE CROSS-FIRE, Chapter 2**

Mona spent the next week researching additional angles to improve Invicta's chances of closing the Memorial sale. In truth, she spent most of the next week Googling Reid Oliver, but her assistant was able to learn enough about Henry Coleman, Luke Snyder, the Snyder Foundation, and Memorial's first quarter financials so she really didn't have to add much to bolster her already-strong case.

The following Thursday, Mona once again drove to Oakdale, this time with Robert Palmer blaring on the speakers. Mona cheerfully sang along: _Doctor, doctor, give me the news, I've got a bad case of lovin' you..._

As she pulled into Memorial's concrete parking garage, Mona reminded herself of the mission at hand: win over Bob Hughes. Without Bob Hughes's enthusiastic participation, an Invicta acquisition would not happen, no matter how smart, sexy, successful, handsome, and (_did she already say sexy?) _Dr Reid Oliver happened to be, there would be no sale, no raise and no promotion.

Mona vowed to pay more attention to Dr Hughes. When she found them in the Memorial reception area, she put on her best smile and steeled herself for the day's schmooze-fest. "Dr Hughes," she called, holding out her hand. "Hello."

"Oh, Miss Cross," he said.

"Call me Mona," she said, pasting on a smile and batting her eyelashes, then adding with emphasis, "_Remember?"_

"Well then, it's still Bob," Bob returned her smile. _Oh lord. Is he FLIRTING with me? _

Mona noticed the dignified lady Bob had been speaking to. She had a head full of silver hair and a bemused smile and appeared to be intently watching the proceedings.

"Good to see you again," said Bob turning to Reid and Luke to catch their attention. "Uh, Dr Oliver, Luke?" Then he turned to the lady in red, making introductions, "This is my wife, Kim. Miss Cross." _How quaint – he brought the missus along for a business meeting. Who's next? Auntie Em?_

"How happy to meet you," Mona smiled and extended her hand.

"Thank you," Kim smiled pleasantly. "Thank you. My pleasure."

Mona turned around to greet Dr Oliver and found him standing so close behind her she nearly stepped on his feet. She inhaled deeply and found she could smell his soap: a heady, woodsy scent.

"Let's just call it round two," said Reid. Luke Snyder stood so closely behind him the two looked like they could be joined at the hip – _Does the boy have no concept of personal space?_

Reid looked Mona straight in the eye as he took her hand and she tried to read the expression in those gorgeous but unreadable blue depths. _Still holding my hand_. _Yup, and STILL holding my hand. Definitely longer than necessary. _Mona smiled to herself. _Say something, Mona!_

"How's your nose Dr Oliver?" Mona asked with a nervous laugh. _How's the nose? Could you have come up with anything dumber to say?_

"Still attached," replied Reid with just a hint of that devastating smile. Everyone chuckled politely, while Mona found herself laughing with more enthusiasm that intended. _Oh my god, I'm giggling like a schoolgirl. Get a hold of yourself, Mona._

"Well should we get started?" Bob asked.

"Yes," Mona replied, grateful for the diversion. If she didn't put a few paces between herself and Dr Oliver, she was going to do something really stupid and jeopardize the deal she'd been working on for so many months.

Bob turned to Kim and said, "There's no need for you to really join us."

Mona was surprised to hear Kim reply, "Oh I'd _love _to go." Then Kim turned to Mona and asked, "Unless, of course, you object?"

"No objections," Mona said.

"Wonderful!" Kim gushed. "I _love _to hear about the hospital." Mona thought she sounded like she might have an ulterior motive, but Mona couldn't figure out what ulterior motive the _Golden Girls _wannabe might have.

"Uh huh." Bob conceded, almost sounding...suspicious?

"Well, uh, let's start then," Bob said. Then he paused thoughtfully and added, "I thought we'd start in...pediatrics."

"Oh, how nice," Mona replied, not sure what else to say. Then smiling politely she turned to follow Bob and Kim as they began to make their way to the children's ward.

Kim chatted pleasantly about Bob's history with Memorial Hospital as they made their way down the corridor – the old fossil had been there even longer than she'd thought, as he apparently did part of his internship/residency at Memorial before being officially placed on staff. Mona was surprised to hear that Kim sounded proud of how little Memorial had changed over the last several decades in their approach to healthcare provision.

Bob pointed out some of the child-sized equipment the hospital had purchased, to ensure that kids were properly diagnosed and cared for. In a corner of the group ward, a nurse — wearing scrubs decorated brightly with multi-colored teddy bears — played with a pale, nervous looking little boy of four. She told him jokes and pushed the Trouble Pop-amatic with a variety of body parts including each of her five fingers, her elbow, and forearm; but it was only when she tried (and failed) to get the thing to pop with her nose that the little boy finally mustered a smile. Even as jaded as she was, even Mona found herself smiling at the exchange.

The tour group peered into a few open private rooms, with Luke periodically relating anecdotes of various children whose lives had been saved, changed, or improved after treatment at Memorial. Luke Snyder seemed to be an optimist by birth, but even his spirits seemed unusually high this day – almost giddy – as he kept up a running monologue.

As they made their way through the wing, Luke was particularly animated talking about one boy – Jason, aged 11. Jason was a huge White Sox fan and had been in the audience when Mark Buehrle pitched his perfect game.

It was a mere few months later that he had returned for another game and had left for the bathroom and become disoriented. His parents searched frantically for him for 45 minutes before finding him wandering aimlessly in Comiskey's giant main concourse. Six specialists and many months later they finally received the correct and dismal diagnosis: inoperable brain tumor. Four to six months life expectancy with treatment, two to four without.

Jason had begun treatments with Chicago's Dr Channing, who had a reputation as the top neurosurgeon in the region prior to Reid's arrival at Memorial. Meanwhile, Jason's parents had scoured the internet desperately seeking alternatives, and when they learned that Reid had begun practicing in Oakdale in January – easy driving distance from Chicago – they booked an appointment the following day. Given the urgency of Jason's situation, Reid had cleared his morning calendar to run the necessary battery of diagnostic tests and scans.

Reid had arranged for a stereotactic biopsy that same day, and had cancelled several more routine appointments to perform the delicate computer-assisted procedure. He spent the next four hours alternatingly reviewing Jason's scan results and berating the neuropathologist (who had been planning to leave for a date with his fiancée) for his lack of compassion and commitment. After finally guilting the neuropathologist into staying until Jason's results were reviewed, Reid himself remained behind until he could confirm a diagnosis.

Shortly after midnight, Reid was surprised that he largely agreed with Channing's diagnosis. Jason's best chance would be a lengthy program of chemo and radiation therapy. But by the time Reid reviewed Jason's scans for the fourth time he developed a glimmer of hope. He reviewed each angle of the scans again and again until he convinced himself that while removal of the tumor would be insane to try given its location and the extent of its integration with the surrounding tissue, reducing the size of the tumor via surgery was certainly plausible and would greatly reduce the intensity of the difficult follow-up treatments.

Jason's surgery was performed two days later, and Reid was pleased he was able to do what he set out to do. He had been able to reduce the tumorous cell mass by nearly 70%. A few weeks later, after Jason had mostly recovered from the most drastic side-effects of the surgery and his risk of infection had returned to near-normal, he had begun chemo and radiation therapy. It was during one of his chemo sessions when Memorial had coordinated with WorldWide's Chicago contacts to bring Mark Buehrle to Memorial for a visit.

The group stopped at the door of a patient room. The door was propped open, and in it, a 12-year-old boy sat up in bed, playing chess with his 16-year-old sister. A signed, framed photograph of the boy and a White Sox baseball player sat on the wall just by the head of the bed. Luke concluded with "In September 2009, Jason was given four to six months to live. Because of the treatment he has received at Memorial Hospital – because of the lifesaving work done by Dr Reid Oliver – he has a 50-50 chance of achieving complete remission at the conclusion of his treatments later this year."

Bob, Kim, Mona and Luke all watched silently, marveling at the everyday domesticity of the scene before them. Luke beamed over at Reid, who had seemed taciturn, almost morose throughout the tour, only looking up occasionally as the others talked. Mona thought it might be her imagination, but it seemed like he looked up disproportionately when Luke spoke, but she couldn't be sure. Looking up at Luke, Reid smiled weakly, almost seeming too tired or defeated to put the energy into a full-blown smile.

Near the end of their visit in the pediatric ward, they stopped just outside room 412. The door was partially ajar and Bob knocked lightly on the door.

"Excuse me, Mr and Mrs Mitchell," he said. "Could I have a moment of your time, please?"

The thirty-something couple exchanged questioning glances and then followed Bob out of the room.

"What's wrong?" asked Mrs Mitchell. "Is something wrong with Syndey?"

"No, no, no," Bob reassured her. "Nothing like that at all." He gestured to the group. "Of course, you know Dr Oliver, and my wife Kim. This is Luke Snyder, the head of the Snyder Foundation that is a major donor for the new surgical wing."

"Oh yes, of course," Mrs Mitchell replied. "We read about it in the _City Times. _Nice to meet you."

Luke smiled genuinely and shook hands with Mr and Mrs Mitchell. "So nice to meet you, too." He took care to look each in the eye as he shook their hands. "Mrs Mitchell. Mr Mitchell."

"And this is Miss Mona Cross," Bob added. The Mitchells shook hands with Mona, and again turned to each other with a questioning glance. "We've been taking Miss Cross on a little tour of Memorial and wondered if you might be willing to allow her to observe Dr Oliver's pre-op session with Sydney."

The Mitchells looked at each other skeptically. "I think we need to ask Sydney if she minds," Mr Mitchell said.

"Of course," Bob replied. "Take your time." _They're going to ask a child for their opinion? Who are the adults in that family? And Bob actually respects that decision!_

The Mitchells went into the room and closed the door. Both Bob and Kim, and Luke and Reid, exchanged what appeared to be meaningful glances. Mona was sure that each pair were privy to a conversation she didn't understand and it frustrated her. "Should we move on to the next portion of the tour?" she asked.

"Don't worry, Miss Cross," Reid said. All eyes turned towards him in surprise as so far he had said virtually nothing else on the tour. "This won't take long."

_Miss Cross. _Mona decided she really liked the way that sounded on his lips. She wondered what it would sound like for him to say _Mona. Moan-a. Moan-aaaah. Aaaaahhhh... _Mona's reverie as interrupted by the sound of the opening door.

"Sydney said she'd be glad to meet any friend of Dr Oliver's," Mrs Mitchell smiled with an expression Mona interpreted as gratitude. Reid looked almost embarrassed and rolled his eyes as he glanced down at his feet. On the other hand, the other three – Bob, Kim, and Luke (particularly Luke) all beamed with pride.

"All right then," Reid said impatiently. "Let's get this circus over with." He brusquely marched to the door and pushed it open. However, almost as soon as the door opened more than halfway, and the view into the patient room was clear, his expression softened.

A girl of about six or seven sat on the bed in a pair of Powerpuff Girls pyjamas. When she saw Reid, her face lit up and she called, "Dr O!"

Though Reid dismissed her, "Oh now, don't get all happy on me now. You know I don't do happy," he gave her a mock frown, but his eyes betrayed the smile hiding behind; Bob and Kim smiled again, and Luke looked as if he might burst.

Reid walked over and sat on the end of Sydney's bed and asked, "How are you feeling today? How's the head?"

"Good!" she replied. "It only hurt this much," she explained, holding her two hands about four inches apart.

"Not bad. But, remember, said Reid. "When it only hurts this much..." Reid placed his hands an inch apart, "...Then that means you won't have to come in to see me every month any more."

"Oh," said Sydney uncertainly. After thinking for a pause, she declared, "Then it hurts this much," placing her hands 10 inches apart.

Reid laughed in spite of himself, and the rest of the tour group followed along.

"So how about the buzzy dances?" Reid asked. "How are they going?"

Still standing near the doorway, Mona turned to Bob and asked, "Buzzy dances?"

Bob quietly explained, "Sydney suffers from epileptic seizures. When she first arrived came to Dr Oliver's attention, she was having as many as four five dozen per day. In the two months since she's been under his care, it's down to only about one a day."

"Really good, Dr O," the girl replied proudly. "None so far today, and only one yesterday!"

"And...?" he asked,

"When it's time to dance, don't take a chance. Sit right down and wait around," she replied on cue.

"And...?"

"And when it stops I'll be the tops," Syndey finished triumphantly.

"You got it," Reid confirmed with an unforced smile, giving her a high five, lowering his hand for a low five, then turning his hand sideways brushing first the backs of their hands and then the palms.

Reid gave the girl a reassuring nod and then picked up her chart from the end of the bed. He scanned through the recent entries while Bob, Kim, and Luke looked on with expressions bordering on adoring. _My god, could Reid Oliver be any more adorable?_

Bob, Kim, Luke, and Mona watched silently as Reid finished reviewing the vitals on the clipboard hanging from the end of Sydney's bed. When he finished, Mona was surprised when he took the Mitchells aside and gave them a sterile explanation of their daughter's status. After the genuine warmth and affection he'd seemed to show to the little girl, he was surprisingly cold to the parents, explaining about the increase in neuroreceptor activity so coldly he might have well been reading Sydney's chart. _Strange. What a paradox. What an incredibly complex and fascinating man..._

When they finished in pediatrics, Bob led the way towards cardiology, where the surgeons in the heart unit explained about some of their more significant accomplishments. In addition to the routine pacemakers, transplants, stents and bypasses, Memorial was about to branch into artificial heart research.

Luke made sure to point out that a few months after Dr Oliver's arrival, that Dr Pierce had left her post at Stanford Medical Center, attracted by the cost of living and the Midwestern family values of Memorial and Oakdale.

At the mention of Oakdale, Mona saw Dr Oliver visibly roll his eyes, and then flinch, almost as if he'd been kicked.

Mona eyed Luke suspiciously as he continued to hover over Dr Oliver's shoulder. _The guy REALLY has no concept of personal space, _but strangely enough Dr Oliver didn't seem to object.

Emergency services, though small, seemed to be well run and efficient. By the time they had started to make towards the new wing, Mona begrudgingly credited Bob Hughes with creating an environment where indeed both staff and patients seemed to thrive, and then gave herself a mental pat on the back for identifying such a hidden gem.

As they made their way up the final flight of stairs, the blaring started.

"What IS that?" Mona asked.

"They must be testing the alarm system." Bob replied. _They "must be" testing the system?_ _What idiot allows his staff to schedule an alarm system test on a day when a potential buyer is taking a tour? This guy is a bigger nincompoop than I thought!_

"Or maybe not," Kim offered.

"I gotta check on that," Bob added. _Oh my god – he really doesn't know what's going on. _"Luke, would you see that Mona is — "

_Luke? Luke's cute, but he's like Little Mary Sunshine. How about that yummy Dr Oliver? _Before Mona had a chance to propose an alternative, Kim jumped in: "No that's all right. We'll keep each other company." Kim put her arm around Mona and began to lead her away. Short of rudely pulling her arm away, Mona was trapped, so she put on her best polite smile.

"So tell me, Mona," Kim began, "Who did you say you worked for?" _He didn't tell her? She's like Donna Reed. How could he not tell her everything? Why wouldn't he tell her about Invicta? Just where was Mrs Hughes taking her, and what did she have in mind?_

Kim walked Mona (or perhaps marched her) to the coffee shop across the street, ostensibly to avoid the blaring alarm. But as soon as they were alone, Kim started grilling her on Invicta's operating policies. Despite asking who Mona worked on, Kim raised several "purely hypothetical" questions referencing thinly disguised variations on events (or scandals) in Invicta's recent history.

After the third such question, Mona finally asked, "I'm sorry Mrs Hughes. I don't mean to be rude, but could I please ask what you do for a living?"

"Oh my dear," Kim replied with a sweet smile. "Please call me Kim. I'm co-owner of WOAK and I am executive producer for _Oakdale Now_ and the evening news."

_The bitch is angling for a story! _

"Mrs Hughes," Mona pointedly began, trying to maintain a cool and objective demeanor. "Kim, you do realize that pre-mature publicity could have a tremendously negative impact on Memorial's ability to hammer out final details with Invicta.?"

"Don't you mean it might negatively impact Invicta's ability to extract the most value for its shareholders at the expense of the Oakdale community members who made Memorial Hospital their life's work?" Kim smiled sweetly again.

Mona pasted on a smile, "Invicta only wants what's best for Memorial Hospital."

Kim coolly smiled back, "So do I. And I can assure you that Bob does as well. He may be a kind and loving man, but I assure you that he did not become chief of staff by default. He has defeated colleagues far more experienced, savvy, and cutthroat than you, Miss Cross."

Mona returned the cool smile and concluded, "I'm not worried. Memorial Hospital needs Invicta. Bob seems to be a smart man. When his staff does the math, they'll realize that Invicta is his best bet for assuring the long-term viability of Memorial – it's a no brainer."

'Well then," Kim said. "I should think they'll have sorted out that alarm. Should we get back? I'm so glad we had this chance to get to know each other better."

"Likewise," replied Mona.

The two women returned in silence, and found Bob and Reid in his office. It was difficult to imagine, but Reid looked even more moribund than earlier in the day.

"Did you have a nice time, ladies?" Bob asked warily.

"Delightful!" replied Kim with a loving smile.

"Lovely," echoed Mona.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Bob said a bit distractedly.

Reid looked from one woman to the other, watched their facial expressions and rolled his eyes.

"Listen, Miss Cross — " Bob began.

"Mona," she corrected.

"Mona," Bob repeated. "I've asked Dr Oliver if he would take you on a tour of the new surgical wing. Luke had...other commitments...and will be unable to join you, but I am sure Dr Oliver will be able to answer any questions you might have."

Mona didn't need to be asked twice, and responded sincerely, "I can't think of anything I'd rather do." She flashed her most charming smile at Reid, and he weakly returned the smile.

"Um, okay, Miss Cross," Reid said, "I guess we should get going."

"Mona," she corrected.

"This way, Miss Cross," Reid repeated, opening the door and gesturing down the hallway towards the right.

"Of course, Dr Oliver," she replied and exited out the door, all the while thinking, _Mona. Moan-ah! Just say it!_

Reid expertly guided her around the new wing, describing all the clinical advances. The few times when his hand brushed against her arm, she felt a tingle run up her elbow and she had to suppress the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl.

As the tour came to a close, she tried to get him to open up personally but to no avail. Finally, she pulled out her last stop: "Let me buy you a coffee to thank you for the tour. I insist."

Reid did not look pleased, but he gave in and he and Mona stepped into the elevator. If possible, Reid looked even more nervous as he migrated to the far corner of the elevator and shoved his hands so far in his jacket pockets he might have been looking for lost change in his blazer lining.

When the elevator doors finally opened two floors later, Reid quickly strode out, making a beeline for the hospital canteen. There he brusquely ordered two coffees, "Two small – and try not to spill them, will ya," he barked at the barista. He quickly took the two paper cups, tossed a five dollar bill at the cashier ("Keep the change"), and then unceremoniously plopped them down on opposite sides of the nearest booth.

"So what else do you need to know about the wing, Miss Cross? It's state of the art and we've considered all angles," Reid asked, barely hiding his impatience.

"Well, it was _very _impressive," Mona replied. Then she lowered her voice seductively: "I'd like to know a little more about the genius behind its design."

"There's not much to tell. I'm the best in the field, it was designed to my specifications, end of story," Reid replied.

_You're not giving me much to go on_, Mona thought. _Throw me a bone, will you. A bone. Boning. Oh god. _ "So tell me what inspired you to become a neurosurgeon," Mona tried.

"I wanted to fix brains," Reid replied, even more curtly.

"Doesn't your commitment to your job interfere with your personal life?" Mona asked.

Exasperated, Reid let down his guard for a moment: "Why the hell is everyone so concerned with my personal life all of a sudden?" Then regaining his composure he added, "No."

"No lucky girlfriend?" Mona asked fishing.

Reid was not only ready to tell Miss Mona Cross to take a long walk off a short pier, but he had silently started contemplating popping her one in the jaw (despite the fact that she was a woman). But he had promised Bob to play nice and he vowed to do his damndest to endure this torture.

"No, no girlfriend." Reid gruffly replied.

Mona smiled. _No girlfriend! _Her heart did a backflip and she leaned forward confidently. When she went after something rarely had she failed. She let the instep of her foot graze the side of Reid's calf and asked in her most seductive voice, "So, Dr Oliver, then tell me how it is that you haven't been snatched up?"

Reid jumped back in his bench but found it unforgiving, and hit the back with an ungraceful thud. "Oh, pardon me," Mona tried to cover.

"Miss Cross," Reid said, getting up from his chair. "Why don't you just gouge my eyeballs out with a blunt scalpel? I told Bob I'd answer your questions about the new wing, but since you've obviously run out of those, I'm out of here."

And with that, he left, leaving a bewildered Mona to admire his retreating figure from behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**CAUGHT IN THE CROSS-FIRE, Chapter 3  
**

The next morning, Bob had scheduled yet another session for Mona with Luke and Dr Oliver in the LakeView bar. As much as Mona looked forward to another opportunity to be within close proximity to Reid, she admittedly felt trepidation about seeing him again, not sure what, if anything he had said, or would say to Bob about their post-tour coffee.

By the time Mona arrived, Reid and Bob were already sitting across from each other at their familiar table in the LakeView bar. After exchanging pleasantries, it seemed almost as if yesterday had never happened, though she did conclude that she had been wrong – it was indeed possible for Reid to look even more morose...and he did.

Mona took a seat at the end of the table, and fought the urge to lean her knee against Reid's.

Reid fiddled uncomfortably with his hands on the table and looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there, and distinctly avoided eye contact with both Bob and herself. She could understand why he might be antsy after she practically threw herself at him yesterday, but she couldn't imagine why Memorial's star surgeon would have a problem with Saint Bob. Bob meanwhile appeared unconcerned by Reid's reticence.

"Dr Oliver has been able to outfit the neurological suite with the best of everything," Bob said redundantly, for Reid had already explained that clearly during their tour of the wing. "In fact, through some contacts of his, we managed to get some equipment that isn't even on the market."

"It was easy," Reid droned. "We get the prototype; the company gets all the PR."

Bob smiled at Reid, "Yeah, but you had to know the outstanding expert involved in that field."

"We went to medical school together," Reid continued in a monotone. "I couldn't help but know them."

"You're too humble, doctor." Bob said with what sounded like hidden meaning. An awkward pause followed during which Bob and Reid exchanged meaningful glances before Reid returned to staring holes in the table. Mona felt she was clearly missing some subtext with him – first with Noah, now Bob.

"Well as you can see, he has taken charge of the neurological wing with total commitment," Bob concluded with a smile.

Reid continued to look grim, staring daggers at Bob as he spoke.

"Invicta's _all about_ commitment – to people _and _profit," Mona threw in.

"Good luck with that," Reid said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, they're not mutually exclusive you know," Mona said, with a waggle of her eyebrow. Then she smiled as if she were teaching some children who were a bit slow on the uptake. "We like to think of ourselves as creating a symbiotic relationship between you, the artist, and us, the agents." Mona relayed her favorite analogy (she _loved_ it and used it proudly whenever possible). She'd come up with it during a brainstorming session two years ago and had attracted the attention of the VP of development. He had taken her under his wing and into his bed and her subsequent progress up the corporate ladder had been rapid.

"If both parties do their job," Mona continued, "Then the patients are happy and profits are inevitable." She finished with a big smile.

"I didn't become a surgeon for the money." Reid replied. "The word profit has never entered my thinking or my medicine."

"Of course not," Bob said in surprise. "Who said it did?"

Mona glanced from Bob to Reid and back as Reid continued to glare at Bob.

She heard a rustling noise behind her, and heard Luke Snyder's voice say, "I did."

Bob welcomed Luke and moved over to make space for him. Luke sat down and seemed to stare daggers at Reid. _What the hell was going on with these three?_

"You remember Luke Snyder?" Bob said to Mona. _Remember? _Bob had pulled young Mr Snyder into each and every one of these meetings. She would have to be comatose not to remember. Not that she minded the extra bit of eye candy to brighten her day.

"Of course. Nice to see you," Mona said politely.

Reid looked away and she thought she almost saw him suppress a smile. Oddly enough, she thought she might have seen Luke suppress one as well.

Bob cryptically summarized, "Well it seems that these two young men are debating the financial accountability in medicine?"_ Really? You picked that up from "I did?" Are you a mindreader as well as administrator extraordinaire, Monsieur Hughes?_

"Oh?" Mona asked.

Luke continued, "Well, Dr Oliver is only accountable to Dr Oliver. He's made that abundantly clear." _Jeez, what's with him?_

Reid barely acknowledged Luke's presence: "Works for me. It's how I save lives. What did you expect?"

_The way Luke Snyder keeps rolling his eyes, it's almost like they were...nah, it couldn't be._

Luke shrugged: "Something better? I dunno why? People don't change." Luke finished by crossing his arms tightly across his chest. His body language screamed conflict. _That boy has a stick up his ass so high it's a wonder it's not poking him in the shoulders._

"Is this about the hospital?" Mona asked bewildered.

_Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep. _The familiar pager beep sounded from Bob's waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Bob said. "Excuse me." All eyes turned to Bob as he pulled out his pager and read from it.

"There's multiple casualties coming into the ER. I have to go." Bob stood to leave.

Luke looked at Reid expectantly as he stood up to depart. "Yeah, I'll come with you," Reid said.

"That's okay," Bob replied, "The on-call team can take care of it."

"Are you _serious_?" Reid asked. Mona couldn't tell whether Reid meant "Are you crazy? You don't want the best surgeon in the hospital to pitch in?" or "Are you seriously thinking of abandoning me here with Luke and Mona?"

Luke continued to sit with his arms crossed, glaring at Reid.

"I'm serious," Bob confirmed. "And if I need you I'll have you paged."

Bob stood up to leave, saying: "Why don't you two discuss with Mona your respective missions in this project. He, of course would like to have the best neurological facility in the country and Luke — "

_Beep beep beep_, demanded Bob's pager.

"I'm sorry I've got to go," Bob said.

"We'll speak later, Bob," Mona called to Bob's retreating figure.

"Right," Bob replied.

_Well this is awkward,_ Mona thought. "Um, well. So, Luke, moving forward how do you see you role in all of this?"

"Well," Luke began, "I have the same goals as Dr Oliver."

"Oh, excellent," said Mona, smiling at Reid.

"But where we differ is in approach," Luke continued. "Reid is clinical. Mine is personal. _Very_ personal."

Though Luke's words seemed to respond to her question, Mona couldn't help but notice the searing stares coming from both sides of the table. Luke seemed to be directing his comments as much to Dr Oliver as to her. In the meantime, Reid looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground, so Luke spent a disproportionate amount of his time talking to the top of Reid's head.

Luke continued on, "The thing that sets Memorial apart is that every person who works there takes the time to know each patient as a human being – nobody is just a statistic or condition, from Bob Hughes to the board of directors to the surgeons, all the way down to Bob's grandson, Casey, who works there as an orderly. Everybody cares."

_Personal. Luke had pointedly used the word "personal."_ Mona tried to pay attention to what Luke was saying, but her mind was too busy trying to figure out what kind of personal disagreement would create the subtext that she was seeing. Luke was exhibiting the particular flavor of bitchiness peculiar to jilted lovers.

_That's it! _Mona concluded. _Reid must have stolen Luke's..._ She quickly looked at Luke's left hand and saw no ring there, either, so not a wife, but..._girlfriend! Granted Reid had said he had no girlfriend, but perhaps a recent acquisition wouldn't really count as a girlfriend yet. Or maybe Reid and Luke's little honey were just having a tawdry fling – that would certainly explain Luke's pissy attitude. Yes, that must be it. A fling._

_Mona was experiencing some drastic mood swings as she veered from crushed that the dear doctor was off the market, to salaciously excited at the thought that he might be open to playing around with all sorts of forbidden fruits – if a donor's significant other was fair game, then so might be a potential buyer or boss..._

Luke was still talking: "And no amount of money or prestige takes precedence over the good, everyday human compassion that is shown to each person who walks through those doors."

_Mona was so busy daydreaming about the latter possibilities that she was surprised to find that Luke had actually paused for a breath of air. No wonder his little lady had taken up with Dr McSexy. Who could get a word in edgewise with Luke Snyder?_ Mona cleared her throat and did her best to appear touched.

"Oh," said Mona, hoping she sounded choked up. "That's quite a testament to Bob's leadership.

"Well, I think he deserves it," Luke replied. "He loves his _family_ and his job. And I think that everyone who works in this new wing should look at him as an example of what a good doctor is."Luke finished with a smug nod of the head, almost as if to say, "So there."

Mona couldn't help but notice the emphasis Luke placed on the word "family."_ Maybe it was a fiancée, not just a girlfriend._

Reid, who had slowly and as subtly as possible been trying to inch away from Mona looked flustered. It almost seemed like Reid felt guilty for his woman-stealing ways. He stood up to go, saying: "I should go see if they need my help at the ER," before practically bolting out of the room without a second look back.

Mona knew what she wanted – she wanted to fish for information, without revealing what had happened the prior afternoon. "I had no idea that Dr Oliver was so emotional," she said, trying to get Luke to reveal the causes of the emotional subtext. But instead of conveying conspiratorial friendship, a giggle escaped. She felt a little like she did in junior high school, when she made up excuses for her best friend to figure out if the guy she was crushing on had any interest.

Unfortunately Luke didn't bite, and his brief response was noncommittal: "He does an _excellent_ job of hiding it."

"Hiding it, huh?" Mona asked, trying to find an angle of approach. "Does he hide a lot? Is he secretive?"

Luke frowned. "Sorry? Is he secretive? What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that you said that he was excellent at hiding things," Mona replied.

"I said what?" Luke asked, then remembered. "No, not that he's good at hiding _things _– that he's good at hiding his _emotions_. Dr Oliver's not secretive. He's private. There's a difference."

"I see," said Mona, trying to gather her thoughts. _Okay, dead end. Time for plan B. Which is..._ "So tell me, Luke. Have you and Dr Oliver worked together for a long time?"

Luke paused for what seemed to be an unusually long beat before replying. "Dr Oliver and I met very shortly after he arrived in Oakdale. My family has many connections to the hospital, and in Oakdale overall, so we are well acquainted with many patients who have come under Dr Oliver's care since his arrival here. We didn't really work together until my foundation became involved with the Snyder Pavilion project." _For someone who claims his approach is personal, and who has a bone to pick, no less, this guy is sounding awfully clinical, _Mona thought to herself.

"And have your paths crossed outside of the hospital as well?" Mona asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Luke eyed her suspiciously, and for a moment Mona thought he might have blushed. _I must be getting close._

Luke again took his time responding – as if he were trying to decipher her question, and come up with the best answer. _Oh my god, he can't have guessed what I'm after, _Mona thought.

Luke was about to respond when Mona tried to divert the attention away from herself, "Do you have any...mutual friends?"

Luke had just opened his mouth to reply, and stopped himself mid-sentence. Relieved not to have to dissect his own personal life and his description-defying non-relationship with Reid, he responded, "Not really. Dr Oliver generally keeps to himself. He's really good friends with his roommate, but other than that, he doesn't really have anyone that really ties him to Oakdale...well, unless you count the hospital."

"Roommate?" Mona asked incredulously, equally relieved that Luke hadn't figured out that she was now undoubtedly crushing on a certain attractive neurosurgeon. "Isn't he a little old for a roommate?"

"Not really," Luke replied. "When he first arrived in Oakdale, he wasn't sure how long he would stay. He dislikes hotels and found a room for rent in a house. He and his roommate really hit it off, as I understand it, so even after he extended his stay, they decided to continue the arrangement."

Luke realized he'd just given a rather long discourse on Reid's personal life and stopped himself, frowning, again. "Why do you ask?"

It was Mona's turn to almost blush. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get personal. I just wanted to get a broader picture of Dr Oliver than what I could get from the medical journals. You know, so I could better gauge what kind of administrator and partner – that is, business partner...well, not business partner because I know he's not a businessman, but a partner in a business relationship, well, you know what I mean, don't you?" Mona took a deep breath to compensate for the oxygen deprivation she was feeling after squeezing out the last few sentences in one breath. "Um, so I could gauge the kind of administrator he would be."

Luke was a bit bewildered at her odd response. "Okay."

Mona decided she had to give it one last try. "So, do you enjoy working with Dr Oliver? Do the two of you get along?"

Luke made a face – one that reminded Mona of lemons – before replying. "Dr Oliver is not an easy person to get along with. His bedside manner is...challenging – even _he _won't deny that. I do the best I can."

Mona's heart stopped at the words "bedside manner" and she decided she'd better stop her line of questioning before she started getting hot flashes. "I see," she said again. "Thank you for your candor, Luke. I really appreciate it, and all of your thoughts for the last few days."

"It's not a problem," Luke replied. "I care very deeply about Oakdale and Memorial Hospital. If I can do something that will benefit the hospital and the new surgical wing, then I'm going to do so."

"I can't tell you how comforting that is to know," Mona smiled and replied. "I'll look forward to working more with both yourself and Dr Oliver."

"Thanks," Luke said. "Do you have any other questions for me now? Because if you don't I have some things I should attend to."

"Yes, yes, of course," Mona said. "I'm all set for now. I'm sure I'll see you again shortly. Thanks again for stopping by."

"Any time," Luke said, standing to leave. He pulled out his billfold and left a ten on the table – Mona noticed that Luke, like Reid in the hospital coffee shop, grossly overpaid for their tab – before shaking Mona's hand and setting off.

Mona sat back with her coffee and smiled to herself. _What was that Luke said about Dr Oliver's bedside manner?..._

* * *

By the time Reid returned to Memorial, the situation was under control. It turns out the multiple casualties were a due to a bad case of food poisoning from the local Dairy Fairy. All the patients had had their stomachs pumped and been sent home with a prescription for a few days' bed rest and electrolyte-replacing drinks. Reid was trying to decide which would have been the worse hell – supervising a bunch of puking yokels, or being stuck in purgatory with Luke and that corporate bimbo, Mona Cross.

Reid marched into Bob's office, ready to read him the riot act, but instead found that Bob had already left for dinner with Kim. As Reid chewed out Bob's assistant for Bob's transgression – "How the hell can the chief of staff waltz out of here in the middle of the goddamned day when there are lives to be saved? Oh yeah, I forgot, he's angling for a big fat pension once Invicta coughs up the cash and signs on the goddamned bottom line —"

"Um, excuse me, Dr Oliver?" Bob's assistant warily interjected.

"What's your problem," asked Reid.

"Well, it's just that Dr Hughes asked me to make sure you got this," she said, handing Reid a folded piece of notepaper.

Reid grabbed the note and left, letting the door slam behind him on the way out. Walking down the hall towards his own office, he glanced at the note. 5 x 7 and lightly rules. The pre-printed heading was blue and the words "From the desk of Dr Bob Hughes" were framed by a cartoon stethoscope. "_Reid, Sorry I had to run out on you. Hope things went well with Luke and Mona. Can you please take Mona to dinner tonight – I'm sure she'd appreciate an opportunity to follow up on your discussion of this afternoon."_

_Screw him_, Reid thought. This day just kept getting worse and worse. "I'm really sorry I had to make you choose between Memorial and Luke," Bob had said, but that difficult time required "sacrifices."

Reid had told Bob that he "wasn't leaving any time soon," but he was getting very close to the end of his rope. Sacrificing his almost-relationship with Luke was one thing (Reid's heart briefly stopped when he thought back to the kiss they'd shared in the living room of Luke's house), but now Bob was pimping him out to that beancounting hussy. Reid had never been more miserable in his life (with the possible exception of that incident on his tenth birthday, but that was a story he'd prefer to forget).

Reid found he couldn't concentrate. He checked his calendar and found he had only one more appointment – a routine follow-up, in two hours. Reid barked at his assistant to reschedule the damned appointment for another day, grabbed his jacket and headed home.

When Katie finally returned home, he'd meant to tell her about Mona's advances, but couldn't bring himself to raise the embarrassing details (who the hell would believe a confident neurosurgeon could be the target of unwanted sexual behavior in the workplace?). In the meantime, before he knew what he was saying, words were tumbling out of his mouth - words about Luke. After Katie stubbornly refused to validate his decision to stick with the hospital over Luke, she then literally pushed him out the front door, practically daring him to quit his job to take a chance with...love. Was he in love with Luke Snyder?

In the car on the way back to Memorial, Katie's words rang in Reid's ears.

—_ You feel that way because you're falling in love._

—_ You don't get to choose love, it chooses you._

—_ It only feels bad because you're not together._

— _I loved my husband with all my heart and soul. I'm telling you, this is your chance. Take a deep breath and trust me. Just do it. Go for it. It's worth it._

_Just go for it? She sounds like a goddamned Nike ad._

By the time Reid arrived at the hospital, he'd made up his mind. He'd had it with the corporate bullshit, and life under Invicta, with Mona Cross, would be even worse — unbearable. Reid hightailed it to Bob's office where Bob's assistant mentioned he was on the fifth floor doing rounds. The ten minutes it took for Reid to chase him down felt like an eternity.

Reid finally caught up to Bob between patients and stopped him mid-step. "Hey, Bob," Reid said, "Can I have a minute?"

"Sure," said Bob cheerfully. "Oh, listen, Mona Cross was _glowing_ after that meeting. Whatever you said and whatever Luke said —"

Reid interrupted: "I didn't say anything." Then he unclipped his hospital ID badge and reached into his pocket and fished out his office keys. Dropping them into Bob's outstretched hands, Reid added, "And that was my last meeting. I quit."

* * *

_**A/N: **__Aw, c'mon. Seriously. A doctor quits his job at a hospital and turns in his stethoscope? One of the dumbest prop selections ever. Really.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**CAUGHT IN THE CROSS-FIRE, Chapter 4**

Mona felt ridiculous, but she couldn't stop herself. After her talk with Luke, it had taken her assistant an hour to get back with her, but he had. The lad was a bit suspicious about why she needed a doctor's home phone number, but she reminded him of the reward in store for him for following through (the usual – a quickie in the executive lounge after hours, and he was pretty quick to comply).

It took her another hour to come up with a good excuse to call him. She reread all of her cases file twice and finally came up with a few "urgent" questions about staffing requirements that she would just have to clarify with him before continuing the acquisition due diligence.

Mona sat at the desk in her room at the LakeView, eyeing the king-sized bed longingly. _What was it Luke Snyder said? He doesn't like hotels? What a shame. I could teach him to like hotels. She thought about Reid sitting next to her at the table in the bar – leaning over and making an appropriate (well, inappropriate, as the case may be) suggestion in his ear and dragging her tongue across his earlobe as she sat back up. Then taking his hand and leading him up into this room and towards the bed..._

Mona put her hand to her head and sighed. Then she made her way to the minibar and poured herself a stiff drink as she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse and fanned herself with the breakfast menu, the only equally stiff paper she could find. When she finished her drink, she decided she needed another before dialing, so she broke open a second little shot bottle and downed the contents (this time without bothering with a glass) before sitting back down at the desk.

She looked at the files to see if she could remember her cover story. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest and the heat she felt from her earlier fantasy was giving her a headache. _Pull yourself together, Mona. You're a smart, worldly, DESIRABLE woman, not a dippy lovesick schoolgirl!_

She looked at the number she had scrawled on the hotel notepad when her assistant had read the digits to her over the phone. _Well, it's now or never._

She dialed and waited anxiously as the phone rang once, twice, three times.

"Hello?"

Mona almost dropped the phone in surprise when a woman answered the line.

"Oh!" she squeaked. "I'm sorry. I was trying to reach Dr Reid Oliver. I must have the wrong number."

"No, you don't have the wrong number," Katie replied. "He's just gone out for a bit."

"Oh?" Mona thought in confusion. The alcohol was starting to make its presence known and Mona was remembering that she had skipped lunch earlier. "Who's this?" she blurted.

"Katie Snyder," Katie replied. "Who're you?"

_Katie SNYDER? Oh my god. He DID steal Luke's wife! _Mona was so flabbergasted she panicked.

"Never mind," Mona stammered. "I'll catch him later. Maybe at the hospital. Sorry to have bothered you." And she hung up as quickly as she could manage.

Mona staggered back to the minibar and critically eyed the remaining contents. She'd already downed the JD and Jim Bean. _Damn, it'll have to be a Scotch. _Mona grabbed the Dewar's and broke open the seal, sitting down heavily on the corner of the bed to gather her thoughts.

_So Dr Reid Oliver ran off with Luke Snyder's wife, Katie (wonder what the good doctor's roommate thinks of his overnight visitor?). No wonder Luke has something personal against him and acts like he'd like to see Reid strung up by his fingernails._ Mona took a large slug from the bottle and pressed the back of her hand against her lips to catch the extra drops.

_For Luke's wife to leave him, it must be serious, right? Luke's no Reid Oliver, but he is definitely a hottie! For someone to leave him, it would have to be more than just a fling. _The depressive effects of the alcohol were starting to set in, and Mona began feeling more forlorn. _That would take him off the market,_ she lamented.

Mona finished the drink and flopped back onto the bed. The room was slowly spinning – or was it she that was spinning. She looked over to the desk where her papers sat, along with the hotel notepad with Reid's home number on it and sighed heavily. _I can't stand it here any longer,_ she thought. She practically tore off her suit and changed into her workout clothes and made her way down to the LakeView's fitness center, where she briefly stumbled on the treadmill before deciding that an exercise bike would be a safer alternative.

She turned the difficulty level up to 8 and worked herself into an exhausted puddle before returning to her room. There, she ordered herself room service before taking a long cold shower. She answered the door in her robe and smiled to herself when the poor room service waiter turned bright pink as he caught an extra glimpse of cleavage as she bent over to sign her check. _Yup, Mona, girl, you still got it_, she reassured herself.

Turning the TV on, she finally settled on _Sexual Sushi _(not the least in part in honor of the smoked salmon she'd ordered as an appetizer – not quite sushi, but she figured that was as close as she would get in Oakdale). The half-bottle of white wine, along with the oysters Rockefeller she'd ordered did nothing to improve her mood and despite keeping her hands gainfully occupied for a good half-hour during the movie, she found herself even more frustrated by the time the movie ended.

Mona threw herself back in the shower again, this time, letting the warm water run over her endlessly, until finally exhausted, she fell into bed, dreaming about a certain surgeon with blonde curly hair and long fingers...

The next morning Mona was still asleep when the phone rang. It was close to 8.00 am by the time she rolled over and glared at the offending phone. She didn't have anything on her calendar, but had been planning to review some of the second quarter draft financials with Memorial's CFO later that morning. She had fallen asleep in her robe and slept poorly; her head throbbed.

Groaning to herself, she picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she croaked.

"Mona," came Bob's cheerful reply. "Good morning!"_ God doesn't the man have enough decency to wait until noon to be peppy?_

"Morning," Mona managed.

"Listen, Mona," Bob said, toning down the cheerfulness, "I have a few questions I'd like to run by you. Do you think you could meet me in the lobby in an hour?"

_In an hour? It was going to take 20 minutes just to cover the circles under her eyes, given the way she felt. _"I guess I can manage an hour," Mona replied.

"Great then," Bob chirped, "See you then!"

Mona hung up and glared again at the phone, then plodded over to the mini bar area. She feebly tore open the coffee packet and tossed it into the mini-coffee-maker. Then she padded into the bathroom, wincing at the cold marble against her bare feet, then filling the carafe with water and setting the coffee brewing. With the smell of coffee slowly awakening her senses, she stepped into the shower to try to wake herself up.

An hour later, she found herself in the lobby once again shaking hands with Bob Hughes.

"Hello again, Mona," Bob said smiling, just a little too widely

"Good morning, Bob," Mona replied.

"Shall we?" Bob asked, pointing once again to the LakeView bar.

"Listen, Bob," Mona interrupted, "I hope you won't be insulted. But we've been holding all our meetings here at the LakeView or the hospital. When this deal goes through, I'll be spending a lot more time in Oakdale. I was wondering if you'd mind going someplace else?"

"That would be my pleasure, Mona," Bob said. "I'd be delighted to show you some of Oakdale's attractions." Mona thought she saw him wink at her. _Oh god, the damn geezer is flirting with me again. Saint Bob my foot. Damned dirty old man!_

"Perfect," Mona replied.

Bob gestured dramatically towards the front door, gently putting a hand on her elbow to steer her out. Mona resisted the urge to flinch and smiled back as sweetly as she could manage.

"Tell you what," Bob said, "Old Town is only a few blocks away. Why don't we head that way and you can get a sense of the city. Old Town also happens to be home to Al's Diner, and the chef there makes the best chocolate chip pancakes in town."

_Chocolate chip pancakes? Was he TRYING to make her hips bigger?_'"That sounds great," Mona smiled.

As they walked along, Bob pointed out the various shops and small businesses, as if he were giving a tour of Michigan Avenue or leading a Frank Lloyd Wright house walk. Mona had done both in Chicago and did her best to stifle a yawn. Her head was starting to spin again, and she was grateful for the opportunity to "powder her nose" as soon as they arrived at Al's, taking the opportunity to down four Advil in the ladies' room before returning to their table.

"Everything is good here," Bob said, handing her the menu.

"I'm sure it is," Mona replied, glancing at the listing. _Fried. Carbs. Refined sugar. Double carbs. Cholesterol. Heart attack on a plate. Sheesh, Memorial Hospital must be doing a good job – otherwise everyone in Oakdale would be dead from eating a diet like this!_ She finally settled on cottage cheese and a fruit cup, while Bob ordered himself a western style omelette.

"So, Bob, what is it that you so urgently wanted to ask me about?" Mona asked.

"Well, you know that my staff are very important to me," Bob began.

"Of course," Mona said. "Luke Snyder couldn't have made that clearer yesterday."

"Well one thing that I care very much about is that my staff have lives outside of the hospital. I don't want them to resent their jobs – and having happy, healthy personal lives enables them to give their all during the times when they are on duty," Bob explained.

"That seems reasonable," Mona said, wondering where he was headed with this line of questioning.

"Good," Bob said, "I wanted to confirm that Invicta wouldn't have a problem with that."

"Why would Invicta have a problem with staff having personal lives?" Mona asked.

"Well, sometimes big corporations want to interfere with employees' personal lives. They feel like personal lives intrude on their abilities get their jobs done," Bob said.

"Well, at Invicta, we are a people company. We know that people are our most important asset, and that happy employees are productive employees," Mona recited.

"I'm so pleased to hear you say that, Mona. It's such a relief to know that staff's personal lives are indeed their own," Bob said.

"Yes," Mona nodded.

"And who they spend time with on their own time is their own business," Bob continued, with as little expression as he could muster.

"I guess," Mona replied, a little less certain this time._ Where the hell is he going with this?_

"Listen, Mona," Bob said. "As you've no doubt noticed by now, Oakdale is a small town. Everyone is like family, and much of that family works with our town's institutions – institutions like Memorial Hospital.

"Yes," Mona said. "Luke also hinted at that – he mentioned your grandson works at Memorial...as an orderly, I think he said?"

"Yes," Bob replied. "That's right. Casey works as an orderly. And that type of connection is typical. People at Memorial care about each other and it's not unusual for them to develop...friendships...with colleagues."

Now Mona was now really suspicious. "Friendships? What kind of friendships."

"Well, take Casey for example. He was engaged to one of the staff nurses at Memorial."

"That wouldn't be a problem," Mona said. "As long as there's no direct reporting relationship, their personal lives are their own business."

"So Invicta wouldn't have a problem with staff members having a relationship?" Bob asked.

"As long as there's no reporting relationship, Invicta wouldn't care," Mona confirmed.

"That's good to know," Bob replied. Then, trying to sound casual, "What about staff members having relationships with...other parties?"

"Other parties?" asked Mona.

"Yes, other parties. Like, say...suppliers...or donors?" Bob asked.

"Suppliers? As long as the staff member does not influence purchasing decisions, Invicta wouldn't have a problem. But donors, no way. The potential for conflict of interest is just too unacceptable. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason in particular," Bob responded, trying to shrug off the question. "Just trying to be informed for when I have to talk to the staff about being taken over by 'the big corporation.' "

"I see," Mona replied, still suspicious. The fact that the gears in her head were spinning rapidly did nothing to alleviate the vertigo she was still intermittently feeling. _Donors? Staff members? What the hell is going on here? Is Henry Coleman having an affair with a staff member? Or...what if it's Luke Snyder who's having an affair with one of the doctors or nurses? That would certainly explain why his wife would leave him for Dr Oliver. Well that would be totally unacceptable._

Mona was convinced this wasn't "just a hypothetical," as Bob was trying to play it, and she tried to figure out a way to determine whether there was a specific donor and specific staff member he had in mind. She had met a dozen or so staff members, and they had briefly met Henry Coleman, though he was surprisingly disinterested in his investment.

Just then, their food arrived, and Bob took the opportunity to discourse about the wonders of western omelets. As he took the conversation further and further off-track, Mona's still-slightly-scrambled brain was having a harder and harder time keeping up with him, never mind trying to come up with a feasible excuse to bring the conversation back to donors and staff members. Finally, she gave up and enjoyed her fruit cup. The busty waitress with overly dyed auburn hair had brought her a complimentary sample of corned beef hash, which even Mona had to admit was tasty.

When they finished, Bob walked her back to Memorial's accounting department, where she reluctantly settled into a conference room with a stack of financials and a large cup of black coffee. Then Bob hurried off to "see a patient", abandoning her with her paperwork, and no chance to follow up on his peculiar questions.


	5. Chapter 5

**CAUGHT IN THE CROSS-FIRE, Chapter 5**

A few hours later, Mona had finished reviewing the second quarter financials. She sat, surrounded by stacks of tractorfed greenbar reports and was satisfied she'd left no stone unturned. Memorial Hospital was a good investment for Invicta, and that promotion was practically calling out her name.

Bob Hughes poked his nose into the conference room, looking a bit like he had some news, but before he could begin speaking, words started to fall out of her mouth.

"Oh, Bob," she said. "I'm so glad you stopped by. The financials look to be in decent shape – not that they won't be better once Memorial is part of Invicta – but I had a few questions I needed to run by you."

"More questions, Mona," Bob asked wearily. "If my staff have to answer too many more questions, we're going to start to see a decline in patient welfare." Bob chuckled awkwardly at his feeble joke.

"No just a few easy ones – which you can probably answer off the top of your head," Mona said.

"Okay," Bob replied. "Fire away."

Mona mentally took a deep breath. "I would like to get a better understanding of who our funding partners will be, and how they relate to the management of the new neurology wing," Mona replied. _There I've said it._

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Mona. What is it that you'd like to know?" Bob asked.

"Well," Mona began, "How is it that Luke Snyder is so active on the board, but not Henry Coleman?"

"There's no mystery to that, Mona. The main reason is that Luke wants to participate and we value his contribution. Luke's family has deep ties to Oakdale and many have been quite active over the years at Memorial. His grandmother, Emma Snyder is a long-time volunteer who has worked with hospice patients for decades. His other grandmother, Lucinda Walsh is a former chair of the Memorial Hospital board. His aunt Meg was a nurse on staff. Luke was born and raised in Oakdale (though I'm sorry to say his mother didn't quite make it to the hospital in time for him to be born here)."

"I see," Mona nodded.

Bob continued, "Luke's foundation has been involved in a number of charitable ventures around Oakdale, and Luke has personally been active in all of them. When he was approached about this project, he felt he could make a difference, and I have to say I think he has really stepped up and been a leader on the development."

"How's that," Mona asked.

"Luke and Dr Oliver really complement each other. They bring very different perspectives and strengths to the project. Luke has been a patient at Memorial more than once himself – he had a serious double kidney infection as a teenager; the transplant team was very lucky to be able to locate and transplant a replacement for him in time. Several years later he was paralyzed in a really terrible incident and he spent several months in physio here at Memorial. He was also deeply affected when his mother lapsed into a coma while pregnant with his younger brother Ethan."

"Oh, that's awful," Mona sincerely said.

"Well, they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Bob says, and Luke's picked up a lot of strength of character on the way. He's got a real understanding for what it's like to be a patient or a patient's loved one and he's fought long and hard to make sure that the new wing is set up to give patients the best chance to recover from the top-notch treatments Dr Oliver and his colleagues are able to offer."

"That's quite a story," Mona said. "Then what about Henry Coleman? Why isn't he more involved?"

"Ah, Henry," Bob laughed. "Henry is, shall we say, a 'character?' Henry and Luke are so different in so many ways, I'm not sure where to begin. But fundamentally Henry is not involved in the wing's development because he chooses not to be. The Colemans are originally not from Oakdale, and while Henry personally has developed many ties in Oakdale, they're not necessarily to Memorial. But as you may be aware from the newspaper headlines, though, Henry was not even aware he was James Stenbeck's son until very shortly before his death."

"I might have seen a headline or two to that effect," Mona chuckled.

"Yes, well Henry certainly did not expect to be the sole heir to the Stenbeck fortune, and we were quite fortunate that he decided he had done quite well enough without it to continue to live with out it. Um, Mona —" Bob started to change the subject before Mona interrupted him.

"How does Katie Snyder fit into all this," Mona blurted out.

"Katie Snyder, what makes you ask?" Bob asked.

"Her name must have come up in one of my many interviews with your staff," Mona said.

"Well, Katie works at WOAK, very closely with my wife, Kim," Bob began. _Strike one against Katie Snyder, _Mona thought.

"Over the years, her daytime talk program has featured many people whose lives have been impacted by Memorial Hospital. We're very fortunate that she's very fond of Memorial. And being very close to someone in a position to make a substantial donation to the hospital, we are certainly quite pleased that she chose to exercise her influence to make it happen," Bob said.

Before Bob could continue, Mona added, "And how does Dr Oliver fit into all this?"

"Well, Mona," Bob said, "I'm glad you asked about Dr Oliver; he's actually the reason why I stopped by."

"What about Dr Oliver?" Mona asked.

"Dr Oliver just resigned," Bob announced.

"He did WHAT?" Mona asked.

"He resigned. Or 'quit,' I believe was his exact word," Bob reiterated.

"What? WHEN?" Mona asked. "Did he give a reason why?"

"He didn't go into details," Bob said curtly, "But I have reason to believe it's personal."

"Does it have anything to do with his 'situation'?" Mona asked.

"I'm not sure what situation you're talking about," Bob replied, "And frankly, if it's personal, I don't think it's any of our business."

"What the hell kind of idiot professional quits in the middle of an acquisition that could save his place of employment?" Mona exclaimed.

Bob grimaced at the phrase "save his place of employment" but only replied, "Look, Mona. You and I can debate and second-guess Reid's motivations until the cows come home, but he was very clear in his decision, so I suggest that you and I look into the best way to move forwards."

Mona was aghast. _Memorial Hospital. With Matlock. But no Dr Reid Oliver. _All of a sudden, Oakdale wasn't looking quite so attractive. "Very well, I'll have my assistant start researching alternative candidates for the position."

"Sounds like a good start," Bob said. "Should we meet tomorrow morning to review the preliminary list?"

"Sure," Mona said, with a voice that lacked all enthusiasm. Before she had met Reid Oliver, the prospects of the Memorial acquisition, and its potential impact on her career trajectory were sufficient to put her in a good mood. But now, she felt like she had been slapped in the face. _Maybe Dr Reid Oliver and Mrs Katie_ _"I'm Kim's BFF" Snyder are going to shack up and move away from Oakdale. Damn that Katie Snyder. _

"I've got a LOT of work to do now," Mona said. "I'd better get on it."

In truth, Mona's version of "getting on with it" involved calling her assistant and barking orders at him for 20 minutes, then ordering room service and daydreaming in a hot bath with a bottle of chilled Chablis. By the time he faxed over a stack of 20 CVs around midnight, her toes were rather wrinkled and prunelike from the extended soak.

She scanned them quickly, reminding herself to stay focused on their medical qualifications. Several times she rejected candidates because they couldn't possibly have those eyes or fingers, that hair or skin — only to have to re-read their files again. She pulled out Reid's file and lay it side-by-side next to the others, lamenting how sadly they paled in his shadow. Sadly she kissed her finger and gently caressed his name at the top of the crisp white paper. She finally fell asleep around 1.00 am, her head resting atop the stack of resumes, with Reid's on the top of the pile

* * *

When Mona arrived in the LakeView bar, the next morning, Bob was already there, sitting at the bar with his wife Kim, finishing off their toast and eggs. _Bitch_, Mona thought to herself.

"Hi, Bob," Mona smiled as warmly as she could to him, and then made a point of graciously shaking Kim's hand as well, too. "So good to see you again, Kim." _ She would kill her with kindness if she died in the process._

"Likewise, I'm sure," Kim replied, smiling back. "I'll leave you two kids to work out the details of this alleged match made in heaven – and that little matter of who's going to run it. I've got work to do. See you for dinner?" Kim stood up from her seat at the bar and gave Bob a quick peck on the cheek as she tucked her clutch under her elbow.

"Right," Bob nodded. "See you later." Bob returned Kim's peck on the cheek and gestured to the nearest table with his free hand.

Mona leaned over the bar and smiled at the bartender. "Coffee please. Black. Thanks," she said, before making her way over to the table to sit across from Bob.

She pulled the stack of files from her briefcase and began presenting candidates to Bob. Unfortunately, each came with a list of liabilities nearly as long as their list of assets. She was about two-thirds of the way through the pile when Luke Snyder arrived and sat down next to Bob.

"Hi," Luke said. "Sorry I'm late. I had some business I had to attend to."

"It's nice to see you again, Luke," Mona answered.

Bob explained, "Luke, I wanted you to attend this meeting because you've been so deeply involved in the development of the new neuro wing at Memorial. Of course, originally, we had hoped to build that wing around Dr. Oliver —"

"And now Dr. Oliver is leaving," said Luke, finishing his sentence.

"Exactly," replied Mona. "That's the problem."

Bob looked confused: "I thought you were pleased that he resigned."

Mona clarified: "I was, initially. The new wing is the key reason Invicta is interested in purchasing Memorial, and Dr. Oliver seemed, um, too idiosyncratic to be an effective director of a neurology unit."

"Yes, but now Dr. Oliver is leaving," Luke reiterated. "So what's the problem?"

"Well," said Mona, "The more we searched the database for a replacement, the less satisfied we were with all the candidates."

Luke sat back and crossed his arms with a self satisfied _uh-huh, I knew it _shrug of his shoulders.

"Well," Bob said. "I'll — I'll put together a list of top people that are available and have their CVs in your hands by tomorrow morning"

"Well, that would be a tremendous help," Mona smiled gratefully. Her assistant, who was usually so good at his job, had let her down. There wasn't much harm in letting Bob Hughes try his own search.

Luke frowned: "Yeah, but you're not gonna find anybody in that batch either."

"I hope you're wrong about that," Bob replied.

"Well, I know who you're trying to replace," Luke said without hesitation. "No surgeon's ever gonna come close to Dr. Oliver."

Now Mona was both confused and irritated. "If Dr. Oliver is as dedicated as you say, why did he quit so abruptly and abandon all those patients that he's so devoted to?"

Luke paused to think for a moment, screwing his face up oddly. Mona saw a hint of a frown creep onto Bob Hughes's face before Luke replied: "He did it for me." _WHAT?_ Mona hoped her jaw was not hanging open as wide as it felt - any wider and she would have to scrape it off the table.

Bob subtly put a hand on Luke's arm to keep him from continuing, but Luke pulled his arm away and emphatically waved off Bob, giving him a skunk eye in the process.

"Reid and I were about to start a relationship," Luke said nonchalantly. _Jesus H Christ._

Mona struggled to form words. "You and Reid?" _Oh my fucking god._

"Yeah. We like each other. We wanted to spend time together. It's as simple as that," Luke continued. _In what universe is that simple? Luke and Reid? Holy fucking shit._

"Except in this case," Luke added accusingly, "It would have been a conflict of interest as defined by Invicta." _Damn right it's a fucking conflict of interest. It's a conflict of everything sane in this fucking universe.  
_

"That's true," Mona finally managed to spit out. "Dr. Oliver was head of neurology. You are on the advisory committee and a major financial contributor to the hospital —"

"Which is why he resigned," Luke concluded for her. "He had a decision to make, and he made it." _You've got to fucking be shittin' me._

Mona looked at Bob who looked like someone had just run over his pet dog. "You knew about this, didn't you?" she asked. _You bastard. You knew about this and you didn't say anything. You let Reid show me around! You let me flirt with him! You son of a bitch._

"Yes," Bob replied sheepishly. "I insisted that he, uh, decide one way or the other. I had no choice about that."

_Don't try to pin this one on me, Matlock. "_What do you mean? " Mona asked.

"Well, you made it very clear that according to Invicta, even the appearance of a relationship is unacceptable," Bob said. _No shit, Sherlock._

Mona started to agree, when Luke interrupted again. "Well, I think I have a solution."_ I can't wait to hear this one, lover boy.  
_

"What's that?" Bob asked.

Luke made his proposal: "If I were to give up my seat on the advisory committee, wouldn't that clear the way for Reid to come back?"

Logically speaking, Mona felt backed into a corner. "That would resolve the conflict of interest, yes," she reluctantly admitted. _Doesn't mean I'm ready to ship the two of you though. Goddamn it. Where the fuck was my gaydar when I needed it._

"Well, then I resign, effective immediately. The rest is up to you guys. He was offered a job at the Mayo Clinic, and you need to get him back. You need to say anything. You need to offer him anything. Just don't let him get away." And with that, Luke got up to leave, leaving Bob and Mona to stare at his retreating back in bewilderment. _Mona couldn't help but notice in spite of herself, how fine nicely Luke's narrow waist segued into that gorgeous ass. Yep, I can see what the good doc would see in him. What am I saying? Oh fuck._

"Well, I guess that settles that," Bob said, smiling.

"What? Are you kidding? NOTHING here is settled," Mona retorted. "Luke Snyder just admitted that Dr Oliver quit his job on a whim for somebody he was _starting_ a relationship with. What kind of idiot does that?" _Damn, I wish someone would do that for me. _Mona felt a twinge of sadness.

Mona continued, "I'm not prepared to jump back onto Team Reid just because his boyfriend says boo. I still want to see the dossiers on the other candidate. And I'm not going to accept Luke Snyder's resignation yet either. If he's as important to this project as you say he is, we can't afford to lose him and Dr Oliver at the same time. He needs to submit it in writing before we proceed."

"Mona," Bob said, "I'm happy to get you those dossiers, but I have this sneaking suspicion that Luke is right. You won't find a better candidate. I'm happy to get my staff on it, but in the meantime, I'm going to take Luke's advice and see if I can talk Dr Oliver into returning."

Mona, too suspected that he was right, but she wasn't ready to give in without a fight. "As I said, I'm not ready to rely on the word of Dr Oliver's BOYFRIEND." Mona could barely say the word without wincing. _How could I have been so blind. Such an idiot._ She pulled out her Blueberry and glanced quickly at her calendar, and added, "Have those files ready for me and meet me here tomorrow at 2.30." And without giving Bob an opportunity to respond, she turned on her heels and left.

* * *

Mona hadn't done her own research in years, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to hand over this particular topic to her assistant to research for her. As soon as she got back to her hotel room, she ripped off the paper seal on the JD as she pulled her laptop out of her briefcase. Plugging it in, she cursed audibly at the keyboard, as she was so flustered, it took her three tries to enter her credit card number correctly trying to purchase her internet day pass.

The last time she had to do serious research, she remembered fighting a losing battle with Lexis Nexis, and wading through page after page of boring magazine and journal articles. She had used Google on occasion to look up movie listings and the odd direction now and then, but had never quite understood her assistant's affinity for the search engine.

Twenty minutes later, Mona understood. She was mortified, but she understood. Her brief search uncovered all the sordid details:

Luke Snyder's thinly veiled teenage "coming out" blog. If she'd only done her research, she'd have known he was gay and then maybe some of rationale behind the underlying tension would have been more obvious.

_The Oakdalian_: the Oakdale University daily's website, showing Luke Snyder, candidate for student council, campaigning to support the student gay film festival, and pictured with...a slightly thinner, but clearly recognizable Noah Mayer. _Ohhhhh...so that's why he slugged Reid. Reid didn't steal Luke's wife – he stole LUKE from HIS boyfriend. Which would make all the subtext...a lover's spat! _Mona's head hurt. She grabbed four Tylenol and washed them down with another JD – after her first night, she'd had the foresight to request extras.

An _Oakdale Now_ clip where Katie Snyder announced Henry Coleman's donation to the Snyder Pavilion, named after her late husband BRAD Snyder. _Brad Snyder? Who the hell is he? I hate talk show hosts - look how damned perky she is. And what the hell was she doing answering the phone at Reid's house?_

Mona was mortified. How could she have missed this? She kept searching for anything she could find on Dr Reid Oliver's personal life, but try as she might, she couldn't find any mentions at all. She even tried scanning through all of the photos at University Hospital fundraisers to see if she could catch a glimpse of who he had in tow, but no luck. Gay or not, the man had to be dedicated to his work as he apparently had no personal life to speak of.

_Now what? _Mona refused to allow Reid Oliver to remain on the staff of Memorial Hospital. Who knows who he would tell about her indiscretions? And to watch Reid and Luke Snyder rub her nose in it? No thank you. She would fight Bob Hughes all the way if Reid Oliver was to be his first choice. Not only that, Delkon, the VP of Development, was a flaming homophobe. He would have a cow if he realized she put forth an institution led by gays. So much for a promotion – she'd be lucky to get out of this without being re-assigned to the Juneau office.

But at the same time, Memorial Hospital without Reid Oliver was an equally unappealing proposition. Luke Snyder's boy scout demeanor would continue to be a thorn in her side, not to mention the image of Luke and Reid together would continue to be a distraction. Already, she was finding it hard to get that particular image out of her head. But even if she did an about face and accepted Luke's resignation, she took a step back and looked at what remained - modestly profitable corporate low-hanging fruit run by Matlock and a bunch of Stepford doctors. Her perfect acquisition still looked pretty good on paper, but had lost all its personal appeal.

_Damn you, Reid Oliver_, Mona thought. Mona lay her head on her arm and felt a single tear slide down her face before she brushed it away and willed herself to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**CAUGHT IN THE CROSS-FIRE, Chapter 6**

Mona woke up grumpy and hungover, annoyed that the hotel wakeup call interrupted her dream. She couldn't remember much, but it involved a bottle of honey, ice cubes, and a certain taciturn physician's slender hands.

Bob's staff had actually outdone themselves and had come up with an additional dozen or so candidates by 8pm the previous evening. Bob had even taken the trouble to courier the files to her at the hotel. Mona had reviewed each file three times, and then SMSed her assistant with a request (well, demand) for additional information on the top five. He had emailed the additional documents overnight, and she planned to review them that morning.

With her coffee in hand, and another Continental breakfast from room service, she listlessly paged through the options on her screen. _Human quaalude. Lousy manager. Bimbo. Idiot. Bankrupt. _She had asked her assistant to send more information on these and the prior candidates, but he swore there was nothing else to be learned, and he was not one to give up easily. Mona even resorted to doing some research on her own now that she'd remembered how it was done, and she reluctantly had to agree.

When she asked him to give his assessment, after a bewildered and extended pause of shocked silence, he asked what skeletons Dr Oliver had in his closet, since on paper he was by far more qualified than the candidates he was struggling to research. Mona blanched briefly at the word "closet" and finally described him as too "unconventional." She briefly worried what he might be thinking as there was yet another long pause on the other end of the line before he finally noted that he felt the idiot was the strongest overall candidate, followed by the human quaalude. He went on to detail four or five of each one's strongest selling points.

Mona herself paused after the silent response to her original query. He was honestly surprised she had asked his opinion. It occurred to her that in three years she had never previously asked. And overall, she had to agree with his analysis – including his conclusion that Dr Reid Oliver was the most qualified candidate. She took a moment to thank him for his efforts above and beyond the call of duty, and for his opinions. After yet another brief pause, she heard his tired, but appreciative voice replying, "Any time" before he hung up.

_Damn that Luke Snyder_. Even before speaking to her assistant, Mona had confirmed for herself the previous evening that Luke was right – none of the candidates came close to matching Dr Oliver in clinical or managerial experience. Clearly Reid rubbed people the wrong way, (_oh god, that's the last thing I need - a mental image of Reid rubbing people ANY way)_ but he was unquestionably effective – his success rate was off the charts for both invasive and non-invasive procedures, and his department was always on-budget. But there was no way she could let Reid Oliver remain the head of the neuro wing and _her_ hospital.

So that left the sticky little problem of identifying a replacement. Mona paged through the files once more. Personally she was leaning towards the human quaalude, but her people and budgetary skills were abysmal. The idiot was not very creative, but at least he could balance a checkbook and schmooze donors. After re-reading the files twice more, she realized she was not making any progress.

Finally, she took a quarter out of her purse and tossed it onto the table. _Heads the human quaalude; tails the idiot._ She watched as the coin rattled to a stop. Tails. _The idiot wins._

_

* * *

_

As always, Bob was right on time. Today, he was finishing off his lunch with Kim at the LakeView bar when Mona arrived. After another exchange of frigid smiles, Mona was once again seated across from Bob discussing potential candidates to head the surgical wing.

"So, Mona," Bob asked, "What have you decided?"

"Well," Mona began, "We've narrowed it down to two candidates. The first is Barbara Huntington. She's the deputy head of neurology at the University of Washington Medical School. She's been at U-Dub for fifteen years and is next in line to chair their neurology department — "

"Okay," Bob said.

"And Invicta's top pick," continued Mona, "Dr Richard Meredith. He wrote a groundbreaking paper on acoustic neuromas that was published last fall." She tried to sound as enthusiastic as she could.

"Yeah, I know. I read it.," Bob said condescendingly. "It was really a summary of other researchers' findings."

In reality, Mona agreed. But instead, she replied, "Well, he's lectured at johns Hopkins."

"I know, but I keep hoping for a candidate who has more clinical experience, like Dr Reid Oliver," Bob said. "To me, he's the kind of man that should be —"

_Speak of the devil himself._ Reid Oliver stormed in, cutting Bob off mid-sentence. As he was no longer representing the hospital, Read was dressed casually in a black sweater and those oh-so-tight, hip-hugging jeans. This was the first time she had seen him without a suit jacket and the hem of his sweater graced his hips. When he turned to speak to Bob, Mona was able to confirm that indeed, the view from behind was definitely just as fine as the view from the front.

"Bob, can I have a minute alone," Reid asked, adding, "Now?" for emphasis.

"Actually, we're in the middle of something," Bob said dismissively. "Call me later."

"Yeah, it'll just take a minute," Reid said. At that moment he noted the files sitting open in front of Bob and helped himself to the top one. _Of all the nerve! _

"Hey, who's this? Another unqualified candidate for my position?" Reid asked. He paused for a beat to scan for the name on the file before announcing, "Richard Meredith. You canNOT be serious." Mona refused to let Reid get away with dissing her next best option.

"Dr. Meredith has an excellent reputation," she said.

"Dr. Meredith is a self-aggrandizing, plagiarizing idiot," Reid retorted. Mona again reluctantly agreed, but she refused to let him have the pleasure of that knowledge.

"Reid —" Bob began, trying to quell his diatribe.

"You hire this guy, you might as well light a match to the neuro wing right now," Reid said. _Melodramatic much? You're pretty full of it yourself, hot shit – um, hot shot._

At that moment, a flash of gray came into her line of vision and an arm made its way around Reid's shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat before grasping it possessively. _Damn. Lucky arm._

"Excuse me," Luke Snyder said, smiling. "Hi, Miss Cross."

Reid frowned at Luke. "You followed me?"

Luke ignored Reid's question and instead addressed Bob and Mona. "What Dr Oliver was trying to say is he would like his job back." Mona had to pause for a moment as she caught herself mesmerized once again by the tantalizing expanse of chest taunting her from behind the neckline of Luke's shirt. Mona blinked. _I am NOT going down that path._

"Dr. Oliver chose to resign, Mr. Snyder. That ship has sailed," Mona said assertively.

Luke ignored her response and turned to look across the table, "And do you share this opinion, Bob?"

Bob dodged the question: "Luke, it's not appropriate for you to be a part of this discussion."

"Why not? I'm on the board," Luke challenged.

"That's part of the problem," Bob replied.

"Well then I'll resign. If I do that will Reid get his job back?" Luke asked. Having already tried to resign, Luke didn't wait for the answer to his pseudo-hypothetical question and continued: "And just for the record, Reid and I were not involved when I made my donation to the neuro wing."

"You don't owe them an explanation, Luke," Reid couldn't help but notice that Reid's voice was several tones lower than usual. _Husky. Intimate. _Mona almost melted when she heard his voice.

"I just don't see where the ethical dilemma is here," Luke protested.

Bob looked at Reid and Luke and said, "Um, I need a moment alone with Miss Cross, please."

"All right," Luke replied for both of them, "We'll wait in the lobby." Luke put one hand on Reid's waist and the other on his shoulder and began steering him out the bar entrance.

"What do you think you're doing?" Reid asked in a hushed tone.

Though she couldn't be sure, she thought she hear Luke reply, "I am saving you from yourself." _Damn that Luke Snyder with his hands all over Reid Oliver. _Mona watched as they retreated through the doorway.

"You know, Luke has a point," Bob said, "If he didn't know Dr Oliver at the time of his donation, well then their relationship certainly doesn't violate your corporate policy."

Mona briefly entertained the thought that Bob meant "know" in the biblical sense, but the image of the two gorgeous blondes getting to know each other biblically was too much for her to process. She quickly closed and re-opened her eyes. "Well," she said, searching for an appropriate response, "I thought we were in agreement on this, Bob."

"I don't think we ever were, Bob replied. "It never sat right with me." _NOW you choose to tell me it didn't sit right with you? Coward._

"Look," Mona said, "If you want to challenge Invicta's policy in this area be my guest. Um, but between you and me, I don't think this is the best test case to use." She tried to be discouraging without being blatant. The last thing she needed was anyone questioning why she had it in for Reid Oliver.

"Why is that?" Bob asked, refusing to take the bait.

"Oh, it's just a hunch," Mona smiled disingenuously.

"Is it because Luke and Reid are gay?" Bob asked point-blank.

"I didn't say that," Mona replied with a plastered-on smile.

"You don't have to say it." Bob said.

Mona looked contrite.

"Miss Cross, I found it very interesting what Invicta's plans for Memorial are..." Bob continued._ Oh my god. __He sounds like he's about to break up with a girlfriend with the "it's not you, it's me" line. __Do NOT tell me you are even THINKING of going where I think you're going..._

"But after careful consideration," Bob concluded, "We're declining your offer. Memorial is not for sale" _Fuck you, Matlock. You CANNOT do this to me. Invicta is a dumper, not a dumpee!_

Mona almost spat out her coffee. "I'm sorry, Bob," she finally said, "I must have misheard. I thought I just heard you say that Memorial is not for sale."

"You didn't mishear," Bob calmly replied, "Memorial doesn't need Invicta's money...or its corporate policies."

"Are you out of your cotton-picking mind?" Mona replied.

"Miss Cross, I have had many opportunities to watch you work," Bob explained. "I've seen the way you interact with my staff and with the patients. I've listened to your explanations of Invicta's priorities, and I've read everything I can get my hands on about Invicta. If you're representative of Invicta's corporate personality, then we're not interested. I'm sorry to have wasted your time.

And with those words, Bob slid the manila file folders back across the table, and said dismissively, "Good day, Miss Cross." Then he turned away from her, pointedly ignoring her shocked expression and summoned the waiter, whom he paid with a $20, telling him to "keep the change."

Mona was beyond indignant. She angrily tried to shove the papers into her briefcase, caught an edge and found them popping back out. So she resorted to cramming them in with brute force, creating awkward, angular folds in the manila cardstock. She paused briefly as she remembered that Luke had said they would wait in the lobby. She thought about the hotel layout and realized that even if she went out the back entrance, she would still have to walk around the building to the main lobby to get to the stairs or elevator. _Damn._

Snapping shut her briefcase, Mona marched out of the bar and into the lobby. There, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. There, on the couch where Reid had fallen after Noah Mayer decked him, sat Luke and Reid. Reid sat, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed tightly in front of him, and appeared to be doing an incredibly poor job of feigning annoyance. Although he defiantly kept his head turned forwards, he periodically turned his eyes in Luke's direction, and the sparkle within them betrayed his true sentiment.

Luke, on the other hand, sat with his body turned towards Reid's. His left knee was angled so that it just brushed the top of Reid's right thigh and his left elbow was casually propped on the couch behind Reid's neck. Luke was clearly in good spirits as he smiled frequently while leaning his head forwards to whisper conspiratorially into Reid's ear. Mona could almost imagine Luke's breath brushing Reid's earlobe, his lips so close they could...

At that moment Reid noticed her enter the lobby and turned his head to stare. Luke, noticing Reid had stopped paying attention to him turned his head to follow Reid's gaze. Both watched as Mona blinked back the angry tears that were threatening to fight their way out, straightened her jacket collar, tightened her grip on her briefcase, and stalked out of the lobby towards the elevators.

Luke turned back to look at Reid and asked, "What's with her?"

Reid shrugged.

"Let's go find out!" Luke said cheerfully. He stood up and gave Reid's hand a gentle tug to pull him off of the couch and the two returned to the bar to get the scoop from Bob.

* * *

_This day could not get any worse_, Mona thought. She cursed the elevator for moving so slowly and silently thanked the heavens that despite its rickety "character" it didn't break down mid-journey. When she returned to her room, she dragged her suitcase out of the closet and tossed it on the bed and tugged at the zipper. _Fuck! _She yelled out loud when it got caught halfway open on the lining. _Fuck me dead, just fuck me dead. _She struggled with the zipper for several minutes more before she finally tore the lining while releasing it. _Fuck._

She tossed down a JD before haphazardly tossing her clothes into the suitcase. She gathered up the rest of the papers which were scattered about the room and tossed them in on top of the clothes, no longer worrying or caring about wrinkles. In the bathroom, she scooped up her toiletries and dropped them in her travel bag, then tossed it into the suitcase as well.

Mona took one last look around the room to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. Once she was satisfied that she hadn't forgotten anything, she turned out her light and made her way to the front desk. She checked out at the reception desk and was just tucking her receipt into her briefcase when she realized that once again, she had been wrong, her day could be worse.

Mona turned around to find Kim Hughes making her way across the lobby in her direction. "Why, hello, Mona," Kim smiled. "Leaving so soon? How goes the acquisition?"

"Go to hell," Mona spat out, tugging on the handle of her rolling bag and making her way to garage elevator. She tossed her bags in the trunk and sat down heavily in the driver's seat, resting her head on the steering wheel. _How the fuck did things get so messed up? _She did deals in her sleep – it's not like it was brain surgery. Memorial Hospital was undervalued. Bob Hughes was an interested seller. The neuro wing was a diamond in the rough, and she was primed to be part of the leadership team to bring Memorial to the 21st century. This should have been a cookie-cutter, rubber-stamp type of arrangement. _Fuck._

Mona pulled out her iPod and quickly spun the dial to her soundtracks playlist. Scanning the song titles, she found the one she was looking for.

_...Hands touch, eyes meet, sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy whirl. He could be that boy - but I'm not that girl..._

She thought back to the first time she'd set eyes on Dr Reid Oliver. He'd said he was "thrilled" to meet her. But clearly, the thrill was only hers. She hadn't felt that heady rush of adrenaline in years. Mona was a long-time connoisseur of all things male and masculine and she had not seen so many fine specimens in close proximity in quite some time, perhaps ever.

_...Don't dream too far, don't lose sight of who you are, don't remember that rush of joy. He could be that boy, I'm not that girl..._

Mona pulled out her cell phone and quickly texted her assistant: _En route to Chicago. ETA 830p. Book room at Fairmont. Bring the JD. Deal dead – will explain later._ Then she paused and added as an afterthought, _Thx._

_...Ev'ry so often we long to steal to the land of what-might-have-been, but that doesn't soften the ache we feel when reality sets back in..._

Mona had long ago given up on love in exchange for a good fuck, corporate advancement, and cushy travel arrangements. She chastised herself for allowing herself to imagine settling in for a small-town life as a Memorial Hospital administrator. _What was I thinking? As if PTAs and his-and-hers towels were my thing?_

_...Blithe smile, lithe limb, he who's winsome, he wins him; gold hair with a gentle curl – that's the boy he chose, and Heaven knows, I'm not that girl..._

As Mona hit the Send button on her phone, she watched wistfully as the progress bar incremented on her screen. _Message sent. _As she put the cell phone back in her briefcase, she saw the stack of candidate files with Dr Reid Oliver's at the front. She pulled out the folder and opened it across the staring wheel, trying to bend back the creases she'd created when she stuffed it in earlier.

_Doctor Reid Oliver. _She stared at the standard headshot clipped to the front of his CV and his searing blue eyes peered back at her, seemingly mocking her. She reread his qualifications, even though she had already reviewed the file so many times she could probably recite his biography from memory. _We would have made a great team, Reid Oliver. Yes, we would have. _

With one last glance at Reid's photo, Mona close the file and gently slid it back into her briefcase. She tucked the bag back onto the passenger seat and started the car. As she turned her head to back out, she thought she glanced Luke and Reid making their way from the elevator bank to their car, holding hands. Mona winced as she again blinked back tears.

After confirming that the coast was clear, Mona pulled out of her spot and made her way out of the LakeView parking garage, proceeding to put as much distance as possible, as quickly as possible, between herself, and Oakdale, Illinois.

_...Don't wish, don't start, wishing only wounds the heart. I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl. There's a boy I know, he loves him so — I'm not that girl..._


End file.
